


Black Ribbons and Broken Hearts

by windrattlestheblinds



Category: Discworld, Twilight
Genre: Gen, Therapy, Vampires, black ribboning vs. vegetarianism, maybe some implied time lord!Vetinari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windrattlestheblinds/pseuds/windrattlestheblinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Edward's departure, Charlie snaps and sends Bella to a therapist. Set during the doldrums of New Moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Ribbons and Broken Hearts

**I.**

_“I’m fine.”_

_He ignored [Bella]. “Maybe, well, maybe if you talked to someone about it. A professional.”_

_“You want me to see a shrink?” [Bella’s] voice was a shade sharper as [she] realized what he was getting at._

Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bella. You _need_ help. I’ve been trying, God knows I have. But… clearly it’s not enough.” He took a deep breath. “You misunderstand me. This isn’t up for debate. There’s a little practice right here in Forks. Your first session is today at three thirty.” Bella stared at him, hardly able to comprehend it. His jaw was set in a stubborn expression she recognized easily; it was the same one she used so often herself, and she mimicked it without thought.

“I don’t need a shrink.”

“It’s been _four months_ , honey,” Charlie said. “Your grades have dropped. You don’t go out with your friends anymore. You don’t even _talk_ to your friends. You answer me in monosyllables when you respond at all. You haven’t emailed or called or contacted Renée at all in _six weeks_ , even though I know for a fact that she’s been writing you _daily_ and calling to ask after you once a week. And these nightmares…” He spread his hands helplessly. “This is beyond me. And it’s beyond Renée, too. I’m sorry. But this is how it’s going to be until you’re _you_ again.”

She frowned. “Look. I’ll go out tonight, if that’s what you want.” Her voice sounded curiously flat even to her own ears. “I’ll call Jess. Or Angela.”

“That’s not what I want,” Charlie snapped, then almost immediately deflated. “I don’t think I could bear seeing you just _go through the motions_. I want you to _live_. Not just… pretend.” His expression hardened still further. “I’ll pick you up at after school to drive you to your appointment.” Bella opened her mouth to protest. “ _No_. There will be no arguments. You are too old to throw a tantrum, Bella, and this is my last word.”

Bella glowered at him, rankling under this new injustice. “I have to get to school,” she said. She stood up, yanking her untouched cereal from the table and stomping over to dump it in the sink without pausing to wash it out. As she stomped out of the kitchen and into the hallway where her raincoat and backpack were waiting, she shouted over her shoulder. “I’ll make plans with Jessica. We’ll go to Port Angeles and watch a movie.”

She slammed the front door behind her.

**II.**

The shrink turned out to be a woman named Margolotta von Uberwald, and her “office” was nothing but the front room in her small, creepily stepford house. She was pretty enough, Bella supposed, in a vaguely silent-film-actress sort of way. If silent film actresses wore fluffy pink sweaters with bats stitched around the collars and had eyes of a horribly familiar burgundy, anyway.

That had been the last straw. Bella had begged and pleaded, even turned on the tears and started screaming for Charlie not to leave her alone with the “doctor,” but it only served to make him dig his heels in even further and he’d left her at the mercy of an evil vampire.

Margolotta, however, seemed disinclined to murder Bella at the moment. She steered Bella almost gently onto an atrocious chintz couch, retrieved a wineglass from thin air with a vague twitch of her fingers, and filled it from a decanter of what she claimed was cow’s blood.

“From the butcher in Elma,” Margolotta explained brightly. “I vouldn’t, ordinarily, but considering you already know…” She shrugged and sank gracefully into the armchair next to the couch. “Oh, do stop hyperventilating, Miss Svan, I have been on the vagon for almost two decades now. You are qvite safe.”

“But—”

“Ah, you’re correct, this session is for you.” Margolotta beamed; Bella could see fangs. “So talk.”

Bella stared dully at her. It was a simple command, but it seemed an impossible one to fulfill; how could she possibly explain the depths of her despair, or about the perfection of the-the Cullens or any of it…?

“You have spent the last four months doing… nothing, is that correct?” Margolotta said after a minute or so. Bella nodded. “Vy?”

“Because…” Bella whispered, suddenly dizzy from the pain that raced through her at even this indirect reminder that _He_ was gone. Forever. That he had never loved her— “Because he left me…” She still couldn’t bring herself to say _His_ name, but Margolotta must have gotten some of the details from Charlie, because she didn’t comment. Her eyes were fixed intently on Bella’s. The words began to rush out of Bella’s mouth in a jumbled mess, like there was suddenly a vacuum that needed to be filled. “Everything— everything he told me— it— all of it— a lie— and I’ll never… I thought— and Alice said… and after _everything_ — he just—” 

Bella buried her face in her hands. She realized she was crying, tears coursing over her cheeks. She could taste the salt on her lips. “We were going to be together forever,” she moaned. “I love him— I thought he— but he _didn’t_ —and I’ll never get— I can’t— it’s too—”

She looked up miserably. Margolotta was gazing at Bella, her expression unreadable, over the rim of her wineglass. “I know you must think I’m stupid,” Bella mumbled. “That it’s just a-a silly high school crush. But it’s _not_. What I— what we had— so much more. I-I love him so much I— in a heartbeat... I’d die for him in a heartbeat. He’s— if you knew him… like an angel. So perfect… and beautiful and strong…” She was vaguely aware that she wasn’t making much sense and Margolotta’s face hadn’t flickered once. Bella felt the words dry up in her throat and fell silent, staring dejectedly at her knees.

“May I tell you a story?” Margolotta said at last, in a tone that made it clear the question was rhetorical. Bella nodded anyway. “There vos a vampire. And there vos a man.” Bella looked up, surprised; Margolotta offered her a sunny smile. “They had vun veek together. She taught him tradition, and he taught her control. On the seventh day, he told her she vos too afraid to use vot she had learned. And then he left. It vos the last time she heard from him for thirty years.” Bella winced as she tried to imagine living that long without _Him_. 

“How could anyone leave a vampire?” she whispered, horrified.

“You think she should have stopped him?” Margolotta asked. She sounded rather amused, but her eyes had gone colder by degrees.

“That’s not… what I meant.” Bella shook her head. “If they were in love, then…”

“The man had a city,” Margolotta said quietly. “ _His_ city. He voke up in the nights crying out for it.” She shrugged. “Who vos she to keep him from it?”

Bella shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She had to find some way to make Margolotta _understand_. “She could have gone with him,” she insisted. “For love— _true_ love—”

Margolotta laughed. “ _Love_? After seven days? Hardly.”

“But—”

“And even if it vos? No. She vould never abandon her country, no more than he could leave his city. How could he ask for such a thing, if he loved her?”

Bella’s head throbbed painfully, in time with her heart. “But… how could they go on? Without _love_ …”

“It vos not so terrible as you think,” Margolotta said after a moment, not unkindly. “Time passed. The vorld turned. The turtle, as they say, moved. Life vent on, and there vos alvays vork to be done. And it vos only thirty years.”

“But he grew old,” Bella said, stifling a groan. 

“He grew up. He vos only nineteen ven they met the first time.”

Well, that was fair, Bella supposed. Margolotta herself looked middle-aged, older even than Carlisle. It was _different_ for Bella and… and _Him_. “Did she change him, then?” Bella asked. “Did she make him a vampire?”

“Gods, no,” Margolotta said, her nose wrinkling in distaste. “Havelock a vampire… A black-ribboner, no less… He vould have been insufferable.”

“But then he died!” Bella wailed. And, to her surprise, Margolotta made a noise that might have been a badly suppressed snigger. 

“Not exactly.” she said. “It vos, ah, interesting.”

Bella clutched her head and tried to understand what Margolotta was getting at. This story, this— it was obviously meant to relate to _Him_ somehow, if only she could work it out… It seemed like Margolotta meant that _He_ would come back, eventually, but _He_ had made it very clear that… it had all been lies… Her stomach clenched painfully just thinking about it. “I don’t understand,” she whispered at last. 

Margolotta sighed. “Vy do you love this Edvard?”

Hearing _His_ name sent a lash of pain tearing through Bella’s chest, so bad that she bent over double, gasping. Margolotta waited. “He’s… perfect…” Bella managed finally. “He’s beautiful, and perfect, and wonderful…”

“Yes, yes, but vot is he _like_? Vot does he do? Vot are his politics? His philosophies? His habits?” Margolotta sniffed delicately. “Vun can hardly claim to love another based solely on good looks and charm. Or good sex, for that matter.”

Bella’s whole face burned. “We never— we didn’t—”

“Did he ever drink your blood?” Margolotta asked, sounding bored.

“Well, yes, but I don’t see—”

“Then you did,” Margolotta said flatly. “It is how ve reproduce. Depending on the particular vampire it may not be the only method, but nevertheless. …Oh, pull yourself together. If you intend to pursue a vampire, you vill need to know these things.”

Bella blinked at her for a moment, then gave up and returned to more familiar ground. “I can’t pursue him like _this_ ,” she muttered disgustedly, gesturing at her own frail, disappointingly human body. “And he doesn’t _want_ me like this, either. I’m too _human_ for him.”

Margolotta’s eyebrows arched upward skeptically. “You vant to become a vampire?” she asked. 

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Who vould? By and large, ve’re terrible people.”

“The Cullen’s aren’t,” Bella said. “They don’t kill humans.”

The corners of Margolotta’s mouth twitched. “If not murdering people is your only criteria for vot makes a good person, Miss Svan, I am not surprised that you are laboring under that delusion.” She shook her head. “Are you a good person, then?”

“I— of course I am!” Bella said indignantly.

Margolotta sighed, like Bella had failed some kind of test. “How do you know?” she asked.

“What?”

“You have never killed anyone, I suppose,” Margolotta mused. “Have you ever vanted to? Not merely a passing thought prompted by anger, but a true, earnest desire to kill another person?” 

“No!”

“Ah. Then by your standards, yes, you are a good person.” Margolotta paused. “Do you help people?”

That was an easy answer, too. “Yes! I helped Renee all the time, and now that I’m in Forks I help Charlie.”

“Vith vot?”

“Oh, everything. Renee’s hopeless, you know, and Charlie’s not much better. I do all the cooking and the bookkeeping and chores around the house and—”

“I see,” Margolotta said. “And did they vant your help? Did they ask for it?”

“Well, no, but they _needed_ it.”

Margolotta nodded, slowly. “Anyvun else?”

“I moved to Forks so Phil and Renee could be together…” Bella said uncertainly. “And… and I did my best not to inconvenience the- the Cullens…” What more did Margolotta _want_?

Margolotta sighed. “I _see_ ,” she said. For a moment, her eyes seemed to focus on some distant point that Bella couldn’t see, and then she smiled brightly. “Vell. This has been a most informative hour, has it not? I shall look forvard to our second session.” Her head tilted to one side, and Bella heard the crunch of tires on gravel outside. “Your father is here, I believe. Good afternoon, Miss Svan.”

**III.**

The second time Bella came to Margolotta’s office, she found the vampire standing in deep contemplation over some sort of chessboard. The pieces were scattered over the board already, although Bella could only assume that Margolotta was playing against herself, there being no sign of anyone else living in the house. 

“E-Edward likes chess,” Bella offered hesitantly.

“Ah, so he does have hobbies after all,” Margolotta said, beaming. She moved away from the board without moving any pieces. “Do _you_ like chess, Miss Svan?”

Bella shrugged. “I don’t know how to play.”

“That’s easily remedied,” Margolotta said, with another brilliant smile. “Everyvun should play at least vun game, I think. Vun can learn so much about vun’s opponent.” The smile turned sharklike. “And about vunself.”

“I already know about myself,” Bella muttered, but it was no good. Margolotta produced a second chessboard and explained the rules briskly while she set up the pieces. The board was made of a pale wood, stained red, and Bella wasn’t sure she wanted to take the risk of protesting.

“Vite moves first,” Margolotta said when she’d finished.

Bella scowled and moved a pawn at random. “I was answering your question from last week, not asking for lessons.”

“So Edvard likes chess.” There was a faint click as Margolotta moved her own piece, far more deliberately than Bella had. At least it would be a short game. “But you do not. Vot did you do together?”

“He took me to a meadow once.”

“Vy?”

“To show me what he looked like in the sun.”

“Ah. Yes. I understand that vampires in the area do not struggle vith spontaneous combustion? How fortunate.”

Bella frowned. “He told me that vampires exploding in sunlight was just a myth.”

“Of course.” Margolotta shrugged. The board clicked. “All vampire myths are true, you know, just not necessarily for any specific vampire. Some are more sensitive to sunlight than others. Vot does your Edvard do?”

“He sparkles,” Bella said dreamily, remembering the rainbows shattering off of _His_ diamond-like skin.

Margolotta coughed delicately. “Does he really? How fascinating.”

“It’s beautiful,” Bella said, a trifle defensively. _Sparkling_ was a lot better than exploding, anyway. “It’s like… being with an angel, or…” She trailed off, sighing happily at the thought.

“Vell. It vould be a funny vorld if ve vere all alike, vouldn’t it?” If Margolotta was mocking her, she hid it well, but Bella eyed her suspiciously anyway. 

“What do _you_ do in sunlight, then?”

“I get terrible migraines,” Margolotta said cheerfully.

That wasn’t the kind of answer Bella had been expecting. She stared blankly until Margolotta reminded her that it was her turn to move, so she nudged a bishop over a square or two. “Can I ask you something? How did you become a vampire?”

Margolotta’s face instantly turned mask-like. “I vould rather not talk about it,” she said evenly. “It vos _highly_ unpleasant.”

“Did it hurt? That’s what Edward—”

“Miss Svan.” Margolotta folded her hands on the edge of the chessboard, looking deadly serious. “The transformation into a vampire is vun of the most terrifying and horrific changes vun can be subjected to. Many lose their minds in the process. Many others immediately commit suicide.” She leaned forward slightly, and Bella could have sworn her eyes glowed for a second. “The physical pain is the most forgettable aspect of the ordeal. Have you not discussed this vith your Cullens at all? There are things you must take into consideration if you desire to become a vampire. There are costs, Miss Svan, of vich the pain is only the most obvious.”

“I know all that,” Bella snapped. “Everyone keeps telling me how much I’ll have to give up, but they don’t understand that there’s more to gain in return.” She cringed back into the couch, uncomfortably aware of Margolotta’s eyes boring into her forehead.

“Vot are the costs, then?” Margolotta said at length. “If you know them so vell. Tell them to me.”

Bella stuck out her chin defiantly. She didn’t like the way Margolotta was looking at her as if she were a foolish child. “There’s the bloodlust. The pain from resisting it. The pain of the transformation itself. I guess having to move around so frequently is annoying. Not being able to go out in the sun. Edward apparently thinks vampires don’t have souls. I _know_ what I’m giving up—”

“You know nothing,” Margolotta said, so softly that Bella barely heard her. “Did it never occur to you to vonder vot the transformation does?”

“The venom changes—no, fixes you,” Bella said promptly. “It perfects your appearance and makes you stronger and faster and just _better_ …”

“Venom? No. To turn a human, a vampire in vould drain that human of blood, then force the human to drink some of the vampire’s. The result is… not qvite a corpse, but very close and certainly it is not alive in the human sense of the vord. The body vill undergo changes, yes, although it von’t make you pretty.” Her lips curled, and Bella flushed. “It certainly von’t make you better.”

“But—”

“Oh, stronger, yes, and faster and it vill give you any number of abilities. And in return, vot do you get? A parasitic body and a mind in the grips of an overpowering addiction to human blood. The pain is immaterial, Miss Svan. The addiction… that _craving_ for blood…” She shook her head. “Vampires are more single-minded than you can imagine, and from the instant you vake up as vun, your every thought is of blood. Vunce you succumb the first time, it is all the harder to resist. And it is never, ever enough.”

“The Cullens—”

“Three hundred years,” Margolotta breathed. “Three centuries of mass bloodshed. It escalates to sadism, you know, after the bloodlust outstrips the physical need.” Her lips twisted into bitter, mocking smile. “Can you imagine it? Standing ankle-deep in blood, fully sated and surrounded by dry husks that used to be people, and only vanting more?”

“I wouldn’t be like you!” Bella shouted. “I’d only eat—”

“Animals, yes. Oh, yes, that is vot everyvun thinks, isn’t it? But even your Cullens have less than perfect records.”

“Carlisle’s never killed anyone.”

“No, but he does turn them rather indiscriminately, does he not? Four new vampires in the last century. It is less common, I grant you, but it is still an addiction, Miss Svan! You cannot escape it.”

“You clearly did!”

“I vos _lucky!_ ” The words ripped out of Margolotta’s throat like a snarl. Bella flinched, her arm flying up of its own accord to shield her head. For a few seconds, there was absolute silence, and she peeked around the meager protection of her forearm. Margolotta was leaning away from her with a hand pressed over her eyes.

“I vos lucky,” she said again after a moment, more quietly. “I vos staked by an unusually skilled hunter and left to rot as a pile of ash for tventy years. Ven I returned, the vorld had changed, and I vos forced to do the same. Little steps, you know. Suck, but don’t impale. Feed vithout killing.” The bitter smile returned, although it wasn’t directed at Bella this time. “Find politer vays of getting vot you vant.” She shrugged and fell silent.

“You said… last week you said that… you met…” It was hard to form a coherent sentence; Bella’s heart hadn’t returned to normal yet.

“Havelock Vetinari, yes,” Margolotta murmured. “That vos the turning point. He vos unlike anyvun I had ever known. He… at nineteen, he vos…” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “He could have ruled the vorld if he’d vanted to. But he only vanted his city.”

Margolotta’s gaze was drilling into Bella’s skull again, but Bella could only stare back in mild confusion, unsure of what, exactly, Margolotta was getting at. Before she could ask, the vampire sighed. “And he taught me… Oh, many things. So I recovered. And I founded the League of Temperance, many years later.

“I have seen hundreds of vampires through their vithdrawals. It is never pleasant. And aftervards? It never ends. The addiction is permanent and the best ve can hope for is to channel it to something safer. And if ve make vun mistake? Ve become murderers all over again.” Margolotta swept a finger down the edge of the chessboard as if checking for dust and then, very deliberately, flicked over her king. “Stay human, Miss Svan.”

Bella walked out of the house without another word. Margolotta made no attempt to stop her.


End file.
